Turmoil Behind Closed Doors: MK Party Insists It’s Business as Usual
The uMkhonto Wesizwe (MK) Party has found itself in the spotlight, not for policy wins or campaign triumphs, but for the drama unspooling at its highest ranks. Recent weeks have seen a parade of public squabbles, damning accusations, and key departures, yet party bosses keep assuring the country that everything’s “on track.” If you’re tuning into South African politics lately, it’s impossible to miss the headlines swirling around the MK Party’s internal crisis, or maybe lack thereof—depending on whom you trust.
Chief Whip Colleen Makhubele sits at the center of the latest storm. Some party insiders, frustrated by her leadership style, have called for her removal. The issue? More than a few colleagues accuse her of ruling with too heavy a hand, making calls without input from the broader parliamentary caucus. A parliamentary leader, John Hlophe, even fired off a stinging letter stating that party spokesperson Nhlamulo Ndhlela sank the tone even lower at a June 25 caucus meeting—calling Makhubele a “political novice” and ramping up the pressure inside those official rooms.
And that wasn’t the only heated exchange. Duduzile Zuma-Sambudla, who comes with her own high-profile last name as Jacob Zuma’s daughter, caught criticism for interrupting proceedings and adding to the chaos, as some described it. These aren’t just backroom whispers; they’re erupting in full view at a pivotal moment for the party.
Exits, Accusations, and a Spinning Carousel of Leadership
The MK Party isn’t just fielding arguments; it’s facing a revolving door of members. Eugene Ndlangamandla’s recent departure from the KwaZulu-Natal region added fuel to the fire, hitting out at the party for running itself more like a “family and friends business,” complete with what he described as wild, undisciplined behavior among its ranks. His exit isn’t unique—if you look at the party’s first year, an eye-opening eight people have already come and gone from top-level slots like secretary-general and treasurer-general.
Then there’s the case of former secretary-general Floyd Shivambu. Booted out in June 2025 for jetting off to meet fugitive prophet Shepherd Bushiri without official green lights, Shivambu didn’t go quietly. He returned with explosive allegations: financial mismanagement at top levels and even hints at illegal activity. Both claims the MK Party leadership firmly deny, implying this is just the talk of someone shown the door.
Yet, through all this churn, the party’s public message hasn’t changed. They claim their mission to govern South Africa is unshaken, pointing at swelling membership numbers and national enthusiasm as proof of momentum. If anything, these challenges—public disputes, leadership shakeups, and angry departures—seem to fuel the resolve at the top, even if party insiders are quietly wondering what’s next.
For many observing, the big question isn’t whether the MK Party is fighting; that much has spilled out for everyone to see. It’s whether this new wave of political energy can survive all the turbulence and truly move from the opposition benches into the seat of power. Political watchers are tuned in, waiting to see if all this volatility gives way to genuine stability, or if another chapter of drama is just around the corner. The only thing for sure? The MK Party keeps everyone guessing, even as it insists it’s all business as usual at the top.
